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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25216534">Occulus Occult</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcepticonn/pseuds/dcepticonn'>dcepticonn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Transformers: Occulus Occult [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers - Occulus Occult</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:59:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25216534</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcepticonn/pseuds/dcepticonn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cybertron is a sprawling and beautiful complex of land and nature like no other. Iacon City is the heart of the Empire - and the birthplace of a boy known as Orion Pax. Orion lives a normal life - going to school, making friends. But then the dreams started - swirling mist, voices calling to him in the darkness, and his life takes a turn for the worst - and with it, so does Cybertron.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Transformers: Occulus Occult [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2236683</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Preface</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Welcome to the Occulus Occult, Wanderer. Before we can welcome you, please read the following.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fic originally posted on the second of November, 2020. Updated on March 31st, 2021.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Please enjoy - and remember, <strong>do not read something you don't think you can handle!<br/>If there's a blacklist item that should be added or was perhaps missed, let me know in the comments<br/>or privately through my <a href="https://dcepticonn.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a>!<br/>Keep in mind that I WILL NOT be blacklisting triggers specific to one individual (I.E Names),<br/>as this is a public work. If something specific to you in this fic triggers you, simply do not read it.<br/>Please cultivate your own experiences within the Occulus Occult community,<br/>The Transformers community and by extension the whole Internet.</strong></em>
</p><p>I: Preface</p><hr/><p>    <em> Occulus Occult</em> is a creative re-imagining and reworking of the <em>Transformers</em> universe. It is in fact not an AU but instead a personal continuity. The first few ideas for OO were born on the Bayverse movies, and later influenced by Transformers: Prime and Transformers: Cyberverse as well as the IDW comic continuity and now several other cartoons and comics. It follows the story of Cybertron leading up to the War, focusing primarily on the life of Optimus Prime because I don't think he's given a proper backstory. Some other stories are firing off at the same time, which will be filled in with tidbits about the characters as well as information on their wikipedia pages on the <a href="https://grand-archives.fandom.com/wiki/Grand_Archives_Wiki">official wiki</a>.</p><p>     Occulus Occult itself is basically an amalgamation of as many Transformers continuities I've seen thus far with my own personal taste and spin on it, think like a massive crossover but also not really because it's my original deal. It's weird to explain, it's better if I just show you. </p><p>     Occulus is long and drawn out. Very, long and drawn out. The original version that I posted (which, I still have saved for sentimental value) was a raw unedited manuscript, and a lot of stuff has been changed and developed about this verse since then, because I had only just gotten into Transformers at the time. Now, I want Occulus to be better than it ever has been before. However, I'm not a perfect writer! I'm not a perfect person! There's gonna be flaws in my work! I can't exactly make the most perfect nonproblematic work on the Internet, HOWEVER, I still wish for Occulus to be as best as it can be. SO! On that note, if I fuck up a characterisation, or you have criticisms that can help me improve the story, PLEASE DO SEND THEM MY WAY! The comments are open (only to registered users because of the anonymous spam going around) for the reason of providing feedback! You can also contact me either off- or on-anon on my <a href="https://dcepticonn.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a>.</p><p>     Occulus Occult is also an open continuity! I would love to see how y'all take my story, how y'all wanna mess around with my concepts presented here and on the wiki. The official ao3 tag is Transformers - Occulus Occult, and the official Tumblr tag is just "Occulus Occult". These tags apply to everything that I - and possibly you - will post in regards to this continuity. Spin-offs, AUs, even inserting your OCs into this verse can go under those tags! So uhh have fun.</p><p>     This page, the preface, also serves as a table-of-contents mixed with a bit of a blacklist, as notated above. There will be heavy content in this series - stuff like graphic violence, think almost the MTMTE level of gore and violence. There's going to be triggering topics discussed and handled, and even later on existential topics. I'll try to list them all here! Take this as a forewarning, though, there's going to be possibly triggering shit here. Please do not read something triggering. Please do not intentionally trigger yourself as means of mental self-harm, either. Please keep yourself safe. I don't know who you are but I worry about you! Please be safe.</p><p>     On that note, for those who do continue on, I hope that this beloved project of mine can bring you some joy in times as rough as these. I'll also be including little checkpoints every five chapters as a reminder for you to take a break and get some rest if you need it. Now, let's get into it, hm?</p><p>A final note - all the comic book tickers were made with <a href="https://fontmeme.com/comic-fonts/">this wonderful site</a>! Out of courtesy for the devs and their lovely tool for making this fic have a little extra spark, I'm linking them here! Go use their site!</p><hr/><p>PART I: The Seed</p><p>CHAPTER I: Ár Var Alda</p><p>CHAPTER II: Iacon City</p><p>CHAPTER III: My Favourite Things</p><p>CHAPTER IV: Sunspot</p><p>PIT STOP!</p><p>CHAPTER V: I Want To Sing To You Until I'm Blue In The Face</p><p>CHAPTER VI: Dream Sweet in Sea Major</p><p>CHAPTER VII: His Name Was Megatron</p><p>CHAPTER VIII: Weird Autumn</p><p>CHAPTER IX: &amp;</p><p>PIT STOP!</p><p>X: Moody Blues</p><p> </p><p>PART II: The Sprout</p><p>PART III: The Sapling</p><p>IV: The Tree</p><p>V: The Withering</p><p>VI: The Dying Light</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Ár Var Alda</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's another day at school studying stuff that Orion never cared about. He cares more about playing outside and climbing trees in the schoolyard and getting yelled at by teachers than his studies. Jetfire sees a particular spark in the strange boy - in all his years he had never seen someone with so much potential, untapped, or perhaps... preserved for something far greater. Orion returns late to home to his weird father and annoying brother.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>"there will come a soldier,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>who carries a mighty sword,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>he will tear your cities down,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>oh-lay, oh-lie, oh lord"</em>
  <br/>
  <em>~ the oh hellos, 'soldier, poet, king' ~</em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>  </em>
</p><p>   “Do we <em> REALLY HAAAAVE </em> to read this?” Drawled Orion, dramatically pinning his audial caps back like a cat’s ears. “This is boring stuff! Our families teach us this stuff!”<br/>    Jetfire shook his head and laughed sweetly. He was old - probably the oldest teacher at the school, shambling along on his own landing-gear, using it as a cane. His black hull was covered in old scars - ‘of past battles in the old age, one-million years ago,’ he’d exclaim dramatically, throwing his arms up to his sides and pulling his back in the process, much to the joy of the little ones gathered along long tables.<br/>    Jetfire was kind of a legend from a long since over Cybertronian war - a war that the Cybertronians ran into head-first to aid their allies, another alien species that lived quadrants away. Cybertronians kind of had a reputation among other species - being powerful and intimidating fighters, but also powerful allies.</p><p>     Those who had Cybertronians as friends and political allies were believed to be protected by godlike beings. Cybertronians were reputed for their beauty - sparkling like a dozen coral reefs, but also their sheer willpower and strength.<br/>    They were relatively peaceful, though - avoiding conflict, especially with smaller beings, but if they should be faced with combat they fought with reckless abandon.<br/>    Jetfire was their history and folklore teacher - he taught the room of twenty children about the history of their people, even enhancing the lessons with his own grandiose tales of the combat he’d seen. He also made sure the children understood the Lore - the more metaphysical elements of the history of their people and the history of the Universe.</p><p>     Stuff that Orion didn’t care about. He just wanted to climb up the tree in the yard, and sit there all day.<br/>    Jetfire smirked at the boy. “Obviously you must learn this, Orion,” Jetfire began softly, “The Book of Alpha Trion is the single-most important resource when it comes to the Lore. I get it’s long and I understand you’re restless - maybe we can take the lesson outside?”<br/>    Orion shifted excitedly in his seat. “Y-”<br/>    “But that means you can’t run off and climb trees,” Jetfire teased. Orion slouched into his seat with a pout. Jetfire chuckled.<br/>    He raised his hands back to the holoboard mounted on the wall of the classroom. He began writing on it with the stylus pinched between his fingers, and Orion abcently stared at his desk and the empty fill-in-the-blanks note in front of him:</p><p>
  <em> "____ is responsible for all of Creation. He was born of Chaos. He fathered the creatures known as ______ through the drops of water that fell off his body. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ______ is the leader of the Elder Gods. He is the patron of our kind. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ________ is the one who challenged his brother, ______ in a cataclysm that would result in the births of the Thirteen. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>_________ is the god of the sun.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>_________ is the goddess of the moon and the sister of ________.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>_________ is the Great Adviser to _____. He is responsible for the death of ____.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>______ is the guardian of time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>________ is the god of the night.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>__________ is the god of the day.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>________ is the god of the earth.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>_____ is the god of the sea.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>_________ is the god of death.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Finally, ________ is the god of life".</em>
</p><p>     Below the intimidating array of blanks, there was a singular box - perhaps he could wing it, given all the answers were placed right in front of him.</p><p>
  
</p><p>     Whatever, he thought almost aloud. He would guess. He knew the second answer simple enough, nobody was quiet about Primus. Primus, Lord of All, Matrix-Creator, yadda yadda yadda. He was somewhat tired of hearing about it constantly, but whatever. He glanced back up at Jetfire for a moment - he was writing on the board the first blank.<br/>    The boy beside Orion raised his hand - he was just a little bit taller than Orion, with a hull whiter than snow, faceplates a pale gray and bright sky-blue optics over-analyzing his surroundings attentively. His shoulders were covered in orange caps, and on his arms, a heart monitor line. His doors folded over his chest, and spikes rose off of his knees. On his back was essentially a built-in backpack, with emergency lights on top.<br/>    Ratchet, the orphan boy from Altihex, named for a grinding noise he made in his throat sometimes. It was something he was doing since he was, well. For as long as he’s been alive.</p><p>    He and Orion considered each other friends - Orion helped the other settle down when he arrived in Iacon City from Altihex and even had a bit of a fun time teaching him Iaconian Cybertronian. Even though it was super difficult to learn, given Ratchet was from another country that spoke a different dialect.<br/>     Altihex was arid and deserted - known for its ashen wastes, and unique flora and fauna uniquely adapted to living in the ash desert dotted with volcanoes and calderas and craters, with a scorching sun and frigid nights that would make even an Uraryan shiver.<br/>      “Ratchet,” Jetfire waggled a finger in the boy’s direction. </p><p>       “Ymir, Ymir is the first answer. ‘<em>Ymir is responsible for all Creation. He was born from Chaos</em>’,” he said softly.<br/>    Orion’s audials drooped lower and he furrowed his brow. Ratchet glanced at him and cocked his brow as Orion rest his chin in his hand, his elbow propped on his desk with a pout. “Very good, Ratchet,” Jetfire said approvingly, pacing over to his desk and reaching into a drawer. He pulled something from his desk and tossed across the room to Ratchet, the ambulance-bot jumping to his feet to catch it. It was some sort of small candy.<br/>    Jetfire returned to the holoboard and wrote “YMIR” in the first blank.<br/>    Orion grumbled under his breath, and filled in the blank on his paper messily. </p><p>     “You alright? You’ve been huffy all day,” Ratchet muttered softly, his brow furrowing with newfound concern.<br/>    “Y-yeah, I’m okay,” Orion began with a grumble, his mask flicking over his face almost reflexively. A subconscious habit, and a way of telling everyone he didn’t want to talk. Ratchet clapped him on the shoulder.<br/>    “Who’s next?” Jetfire began. “‘-He fathered creatures known as - blank - through the drops of water that fell off his body’. Now this one I haven’t gone over just yet - as our main focus is the Elder Gods. This one I’m just going to hand to you - we’re looking for the Jotnar, the Giants”.<br/>    Orion rolled his optics, scrawled down the answer, flipped the page over onto the blank side, and began to draw.</p><p>     He was just restless.<br/>     Line after line, scribble after scribble, sometimes tossing a glance to the yard outside and his beloved tree - and in the distance, Iacon City in its sprawling glory crowned by the Great Tree and the Palace within.<br/>    Iacon City. The heart and soul of the Cybertronian Empire. Orion didn’t care much for politics - all he knew was that the Mother was the one who led their people and cared for them. Not everyone’s <em> actual </em> mother, gods no, just a… symbolic title Orion didn’t care to pay enough attention to in previous lessons.<br/>     All he worried about was when recess came again. He found himself scribbling more and more - it was beginning to take the form of a tree. A beautiful tree, with branches arching high into the sky and roots curling into the earth as if attempting to embrace itself. </p><p>     ...And by the time he had looked up, Jetfire’s imposing but friendly presence passed over him. “Orion,” He began gently, and the younger mech tilted his optics up and scanned the room. The room was barren - the chairs that once hung backpacks on their backs were unoccupied. Their cubbies where they kept their supplies had their curtains drawn over them - the classroom was completely empty. “I didn’t wish to disturb you,” the older mech began, “But it’s way past dismissal. It’s time to go home”.<br/>    Orion glanced between his drawing and his teacher. “I-I’m sorry, Sir,” Orion began gently. “It won’t happen again--”</p><p>     “You think I’m mad?” Jetfire began, “I see it in your optics. There’s something behind them, I know for sure. Untapped potential like I’ve never seen before,” He drawled. “And I’ve seen potential in my heydays”.<br/>    “Yeah, you wanna see me tap into it, you tell me this every time I’m late for dismissal”.<br/>    Jetfire chuckled as Orion’s optics fell back to his drawing. Jetfire turned his own bright red optics down to gaze at the drawing, too. “Not just that. There’s more to you than meets the eye, I think. There’s something behind those optics of yours. Something different. But that’s probably just the ramblings of a senile old man,” he chuckled, ruffling the top of Orion’s head - which made his audial caps flick up suddenly. “And may I ask - is this a drawing of the Great Tree? I left you because I dare not disturb an artist at work, I’ve been watching you this whole time”.</p><p>     Orion sighed. “I… I was just drawing… on the back of my homework…”<br/>    Jetfire chuckled. “No, don’t worry about it. You keep a hold of that drawing - maybe frame it. I’ll get you a new copy of the note. And-- I know you’re a restless kid. There’s a part of you that yearns to be outside in the trees like a great red-and-blue bird. We’re all drawn to the natural world - it’s where we come from, and it’s where we will return once our time finally ticks to a close. But please -- try to pay attention. You’re a star student, Orion. I want to help you”.<br/>    Jetfire shuffled away from Orion, leaving him where he sat awkwardly, staring with wide optics at the drawing of the tree. He didn’t mean for it to look like the Great Tree - but he supposed it kind of did. He closed his binder and flipped it shut, and clipped it closed. </p><p>     Jetfire’s towering shadow passed over the littler bot again, and he placed in front of him a blank, fresh copy of the note - it was freshly printed, as it was still warm to the touch. He forced a smile. “You get home, now -- maybe ask Ratchet for the answers to the blanks, there’s a quiz at the end of the week on Soluxus in the morning. Do you know your way home, or do you typically take transit? I can always help out”.<br/>    Orion sighed. “I can drive myself,” he muttered softly, “But thanks though. I don’t live far”.<br/>    “Right, right,” Jetfire began with a small smirk, shuffling back to his desk in the corner of the room. “Well, I hope to see you tomorrow”.<br/>    Orion sighed, stood up, folded the paper and tossed it in his chest to inevitably be forgotten, dropped his binder in his bag, clasped it shut and threw it over his shoulders.</p><p>
  
</p><p>     He pulled into the driveway of the family home after getting stopped in traffic a few dozen times. The little truck honked his horn twice to announce his arrival.<br/>    His hull sparkled blue with red flames dancing along its surface - or was it red with blue flames? Whatever. He flexed his shoulders and heaved a huff of exhaust, making the gills on his neck and the vents on his sides rattle. His face was softer than his brother’s - his optics brighter, his smile kinder. Magnus was kind of an asshole.<br/>    Said aforementioned brother was playing and tussling in the yard with a friend from across the street - someone Orion never cared to learn the name of, and they hated him anyways.<br/>    Even though he honked - surely alerting his brother and his friend to his arrival, Orion found himself hurrying inside as soon as he could anyways.</p><p>    Their house was a decent size - two floored, running alongside a bulkhead that fell into the bay that broke off into the great Crystal Sea. There was a small hill that slumped into the crystalline blue waters, and beside it, a nicely-sized fishing boat that was rarely even in its dock to begin with. Sunspot - his father - was always out somewhere on the Bay of Rust, the Bay that bordered the sea-side edge of Iacon City and fed into the Rust Canal, and then into the Crystal Sea.<br/>     Along the cape that jutted out to form the canal was the local pier - a carnival of sorts, with different rides and ferris wheels and all kinds of entertainment. It looked pristine and beautiful during the summer when it was night-time, and Orion could practically spend all night laying under the stars and the moons as if he owned the universe.</p><p>     Even against the sunset it was beautiful in its own serene way.<br/>    Orion scanned the living room - it was pristine and perfectly clean. Everyone did their part in the house. Sunspot did, Magnus did, Orion did… The tile floor sparkled with a pale blue carpet thrown over it. The walls were hung with plates and family photos and shelves dotted with little trinkets and baubles and statuettes covered a gray wall. It was queer but in a fun, adorable way.<br/>    A grand piano sat against the wall, and hanging on the wall beside it was a flatscreen TV. The living room was carpeted with pale blue, there was a coffee table on a rug, and some couches pressed against the wall and the windows that overlooked the front yard and the fishing shed beside the dock. </p><p>     There was a hallway with a small lavatory, a guest room, then stairs that led up to the second floor and also down into the basement, where a rec room was with Sunspot’s room and the laundry room, and some storage and spare spaces.<br/>     The topmost floor was reserved entirely for the boys - Orion with a room with a skylight and a wrap-around window that overlooked the bay. Magnus’ room was surrounded by trees and had smaller windows, with a balcony over top of the wrap-around porch the house had.<br/>    There was a lounge room - probably a mess no thanks to Magnus - and a small lavatory.<br/>    “Orion Pax!” Called Sunspot from the kitchen that the atrium led to, alongside the back door.</p><p>     Orion stepped into the kitchen swiftly. “Sorry I’m late, dad,” He began gently.<br/>    “Late?”<br/>      “...To home?”<br/>      “There’s no such thing as ‘late to home’, my little Hunter,” he said playfully - he was standing at the counter, chopping up vegetables on a cutting board with the blade fastened on the inside of his arm. Both of his hands were missing their ring-fingers. Some kind of accident with his hidden blades. “Home is always waiting for you. It’ll be there when you wake and it’ll be there when you sleep. And you’ll always find your way home no matter what. After all-” His father playfully twirled on his heel as he crossed the kitchen, “-Home isn’t even a place, or at least it doesn’t have to be constrained to a place.<br/>    Home can be a person! Home can be a thing! Home can be a feeling that’s deep in your spark. You’ll know home when you see it - in a place, an object, an emotion attached to something, or that <em>special someone</em> - or <em>someones</em> - you’d meet later in life”.</p><p>     He was making some sort of roast - the oven was open, and inside of it a huge black pot, and inside of it a large, fat roast covered in spices and herbs. He was prepping vegetables to be cooked next, throwing them collectively into a pot of water. He closed the oven door with his foot - which was similar in construction to a bird’s. He simply wrapped his toes around the handle of the door and whisked it shut.<br/>    That was because he was a flying frame - seekers as they were called, characterized by their special adaptations to flight and perching.<br/>    Sunspot was maybe just a little bit weird. Full of energy - always giving weird advice or nonsensical speeches that only make sense when one would squint at his words and tilt their heads to look at it in a different angle.</p><p>     “Thanks, Dad,” Orion began gently.<br/>    “Anything interesting happen at school?” He asked, setting the pot of water on the stovetop and twirling again to lean against the countertop, listening intently.<br/>    His optics were bright orange-red, contrasting starkly against pale gray faceplates and a pale white hull, with black stripes lining his wings which plated over his arms. He had two long panels rising from his head like large ears. He cocked his head at Orion.<br/>    “Jetfire bore you to death?”<br/>    “Not really, no, I do have homework though…”<br/>    “And?”<br/>    “It’s a simple note, maybe you can help me… with it… because I know… Ratchet has medical club right now…” Sunspot cocked his brow and smirked.<br/>    “Well -- I’ll be glad to help you, you know that. But first, dinner. You go take a moment to settle into home and if Magnus gives you a problem you have my permission to give him the ol’ one-two,” Sunspot giggled, playfully punching the air and accidentally sending his arm-blade firing from its sheath. He shook his wrist awkwardly and it slid back down. He smiled almost comically huge at Orion, who smiled in return and shuffled down the hall.</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The title is borrowed from the Voluspa, which is relevant to later! If you know you know but don't say anything.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Iacon City</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Iacon City - the Capital of the Cybertronian Empire.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>"now it is your line,<br/>i know that i wrote it.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>and if you tell a lie</em>
  <br/>
  <em>well, no one will notice".</em>
  <br/>
  <em>~ lisa hannigan, 'a sail' ~</em>
</p><p>
  <span>     Iacon City.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>     A place Orion’s called home since the day of his birth. The Capital of the Cybertronian Empire. A hub of tourism and job opportunities. People were coming and going every day - the city that never slept.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>     It was split into nine Districts - the Horseshoe District, the Moonclaw District, the Great Tree District, the Festival District, the Waterside District, the Cloud District, the Watershed District, the Hippocampus District and the Shadow District. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>     In the heart of the city was the Great Tree District - where the Great Tree sat and swayed its grand branches over the city below, with the Grand Palace carved into its trunk and built in the Tree’s boughs. The Grand Palace was surrounded by four towers - the Eastern Tower was the Royal Guards’ barracks, the Western Tower was residential areas for the Mother’s family, the Southern Tower was home to the Grand Archives, and the Northern Tower hadn’t been accessed in thousands of years.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     It was a place of mystery.<br/>    The four Towers were like massive black stone monoliths surrounding the Tree, jutting into the sky and reflecting light over the city below. Their tops were slanted inwards, towards the Tree, with a mysterious glowing ring hovering around them and a large orb hovering over the slanted faces. The North was blue, the South was purple, the West was green and the East was white. <br/>    The Great Tree itself was a sight to behold - silver bark that sparkled in the light, with glimmering golden leaves, golden wood, and lapis-blue sap. And even though the Tree was an ash tree, it produced large black fruit in clusters lovingly called blackfruit. Some dared to call it cyberfruit.<br/>    Its skin was as black as the void itself, but soft like the skin of a peach - its flesh was red, its juices blue, and when crushed its pulp was green, and the pit in its middle resembled a gold-and-silver eye. It was Cybertron’s favourite fruit, and most beloved planet-and-galaxywide export.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The Great Tree kept the planet and all that lived on it alive. Without the Tree, there is no Cybertron. Its roots dug deep under the surface of the planet, and legend tells that its roots feed into wells deep underground that have magical properties. <br/></span>
  <span>     There was even rumor and legend surrounding the Northern Tower - that below it, there was a vault that dated to the Age of Primes, and within it, it contained a trial for the first Prime born since the Dark Ages.<br/></span>
  <span>     Others said the Tower wasn’t even a tower, just a solid chunk of stone to balance out the other three Towers, so it would look even. Some even believed the Northern Tower was some kind of giant superweapon.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>     And under the Towers and around them, there was housing for aristocrats. Fancy houses and mansions all lined up with sidewalks between them. Facing the sea was a larger road, however, with a staircase that led up to the Grand Palace. The Southern and Eastern Tower stood either side. <br/>    Surrounding the Tree were the other eight Districts - firstly, surrounding the Great Tree District was the Festival District.<br/>    It was huge - namely, home to the parade grounds, the hippodrome, the colosseum and a massive merchant’s grounds, which was dotted with yurts and tents from all corners of Cybertron. There were portable counters scattered in front of them, all displaying goods. It was one of the only places in the Festival District that was this active when there wasn’t a major event happening. The rest of the District served as a massive park when there weren’t any festivals happening. Occasionally, bands would perform in the colosseum or the Grand Arena nearby. <br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>     To the West of the Festival District was the Horseshoe District, named for its distinctive shape.<br/>    Many people lived here - it was the suburbia of Iacon City. There were fancy houses, there were shabby houses, there were malls and fast food places. Nothing too special.<br/>    Beside it to the North was the Shadow District.<br/>    The Shadow District was the home of drug dealers. Bootleggers. Any and every crime was committed within the Shadow District. There was housing - but living there probably isn’t the safest idea. Running through its middle was the farthest tip of the Kaon Rift, which extended all the way to Kolkular in the North. That, was the worst area of the Shadow District.<br/>    Aside from the crime - and closer to the bordering Festival District - the Shadow District was home to a booming nightlife scene. Casinos, arcades, even hotels attracted many visitors - and many criminals.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Beside the Shadow District to the North-East of the Great Tree was the Watershed District, named for its rivers and watersheds that were redirected below the streets of the rest of the city. Some deemed it the exiting point of Iacon City - ferries came and went, and it was home to lush greenery and pristine waters.</span>
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  <span>     Many lived here, on gondolas that drifted aimlessly along the rivers that webbed through the country of Iacon, some lived in houses that stood halfway in the water. It was mostly residential, and home to many out-of-country-and-coming-into-country public transit stops.</span>
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  <span>     Then, after the Watershed District came the Moonclaw District in the East. It was what made Iacon City look like a city - towering sky-scrapers, home to apartments and offices and the like that raked the skies above. It was the only place in the whole city to have actual concrete streets, rather than wooden ones or exposed rivers.<br/></span>
  <span>    It was the sole reason as to why Iacon City was a magnet for job opportunities of all sorts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Then, in the South-East - the Hippocampus District, and Orion’s home.<br/>    It was where the rivers of Iacon marched into the sea, home to a booming fishing community and a hot-spot for tourism, considering it was home to the pier and the amusement park upon it. The Bay of Rust was surrounded by two capes to the South, the Westernmost being home to the amusement park. <br/>    Then, it gave way to the Crystal Sea.<br/>    Beside the Hippocampus District to the due-South came the Waterside District. It was where Iacon’s finest beaches were located, alongside the aquarium and several museums, even a zoo. The few houses that were there were grand mansions that stood forebodingly over the streets below. It was the only other District to have paved roads.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Then, the Cloud District - which loomed over the neighboring Districts, perched atop a massive cliff with a proud waterfall spilling from its edge. It was a beloved place to live, and home to Iacon’s most famous theatres. It pressed right against the border of Caminus. <br/></span>
  <span>     After the Cloud District came again the Horseshoe District.<br/>    All seven Districts perfectly surrounded the centre of the great City.<br/>    The City itself was woven with not roads but rivers - with strong concrete sidewalks lining them, and elevated wooden docks with glass windows over them so that people could drive over the rivers rather than swim through them.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Even though swimming through the pristine waters was much more common, some used gondolas or paddleboards. It was how they got around in a big city in a country that was mostly rivers and lakes.</span>
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  <span>     It was a perfect place to call home. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>     It was almost the exact same dream every night.<br/></span>
  <span>     A swirling void of mist and blackness heavier than water - it choked his gills and clogged at his rattling vents. But it was just air - still air.</span>
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  <span>     He tried to breathe in and breathe out. But he couldn’t.</span>
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  <span>     Tossing his head, the young one rolled over in the yawning void. Something below him was moving - rising up towards him, and he strained his optics to make out what it was in that swirling, dark mist.</span>
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  <span>     Before the moving mass could contact him, though, it vanished, and the shadows weaved itself into something new.</span>
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  <span>     It was hazy - he could barely make it out, but the mist formed the outline of a tree and atop it was an eagle with its wings spread, and in its beak it held a ribbon.</span>
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  <span>     The mist formed itself into great fanged maws, which prompted the eagle to take flight off of the tree and wrap the wolf around the snout with the ribbon it held.</span>
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  <span>     And the image dissipated. </span>
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  <span>     He rolled himself over again - standing woven from shadows was a boy his age he had never seen before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He stood in the shadows, his chest and midsection layered with fine gray playing, and a symbol in the centre of his chest. His hands were clawed, and his helmet was boxy and even bucket-like in appearance. He opened his mouth to cry out, but no sound came - he swirled into the shadows.<br/></span>
  <span>     Orion rolled over again in the shadows - now, he must’ve been facing directly upwards, gazing a severed head in the eyes, which opened its mouth and a waterfall of mist rolled out.</span>
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  <span>     Another roll - and he was staring at himself. A grown man, now, standing on a cliff with a great sword in hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     And he woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in his bed. He wasn’t falling anymore, he wasn’t floating anymore. The gills on the sides of his neck flared and his vents rattled as he caught his breath. His spark was racing.</span>
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  <span>     He stretched out his hands in front of his face - the webbing between his fingers was unfolded. He shook his hand, and they closed. He huffed.</span>
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  <span>     His breathing slowed as he caught his breath and turned to step out of bed.</span>
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  <span>     The sun was rising. Sigmuus morning.</span>
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  <span>     Tomorrow, his note on Elder Gods was due.</span>
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  <span>     And then the weekend, where he’d be trapped with Magnus for two whole days.</span>
</p><p>
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  <span>      Ratchet had handed Orion his note quite begrudgingly. “You should’ve paid attention,” the ambulance-bot chided. So, Orion began to write:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Primus is the leader of the Elder Gods. He is the patron of our kind.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Unicron is the one who challenged his brother, Primus, in a cataclysm that would result in the births of the Thirteen.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nuhl'Nurakh is the god of the sun.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fus'Nurakh is the goddess of the moon and the sister of Nuhl'Nurakh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yol'Nukurr is the Great Advisor to Primus. He is responsible for the death of Ymir.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thul'Ume is the guardian of time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Khevnorakh is the god of the night.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Torne'Shulya is the god of the day.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shah'Liid is the god of the earth. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lumno is the god of the sea.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Finally, Tove'Shalga is the god of life.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     With a sigh, he set his pen down. Magnus, from the table across the way from the one Orion sat at, balled up a wad of paper and threw it at Orion’s head. It bounced off pathetically, and Orion’s finial flicked.</span>
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  <span>     He shot a glare at his brother as he pushed Ratchet’s note back towards him. Magnus threw another ball of paper at Orion.</span>
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  <span>     His gills flared and his vents rattled as he exhaled an irritated sigh. He turned and hissed at Magnus, who stuck his tongue out at him in mocking. “I swear,” Orion muttered. “I’ve had enough of him”.</span>
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  <span>     Ratchet wasn’t paying attention. He was writing some things in a notebook, every so often glancing towards a datapad set up in front of him - it was a medical textbook. Orion hardly understood a single word on the page.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He shifted uneasily. Mornings were always tough, especially on Sigmuus. A bunch of rowdy children excited for the weekend was a recipe for disaster.</span>
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  <span>     A smirk bloomed on Orion’s lips, and he reached for Ratchet’s pen when he set it down and looked away to chat with someone who sat beside him. Another boy, who was all red-and-orange. He had exhaust pipes on his forearms, and flame patterns laced his body. Hot Rod was his name, but he recently took to being called Rodimus for short.</span>
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  <span>    Ratchet turned slowly, reaching for his pen - discovering that it wasn’t in its place. Ratchet glanced over to Orion holding his pen between his fingers. “Orion!” Ratchet began, reaching up to take it from him. Orion held it out of his reach. “I needed that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Orion chuckled and handed the pen back to Ratchet, who growled in his throat and snatched it away.<br/>    Jetfire strode into the room, and the class fell silent.<br/>    “Today,” he began, “We are going to start diving into the very beginning of all things, then, we’re going to move to maths, then geography, then history. Then, it is time for a break. After we return from our break, we will delve into history”. And as he spoke, he wrote on that holographic board mounted on the wall. “Then, it’s mid-day recess and lunch. At the end of the day, we’ll focus on science”.<br/></span>
</p><p>
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  <span>     The old jet wore over his back a pelt - it was a rich black like his hull, and it hung over his old, scarred shoulders with a particular elegant quality to it. Why he was wearing the pelt was beyond any of the students sitting in the room. </span>
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  <span>     Orion shifted in his seat as the morning-bell chimed.<br/></span>
  <span>     Morning announcements. The principal would come on, talk about events of the day and anything special that was upcoming.</span>
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  <span>     It took up the first five minutes of their day, and once the announcements were done, they moved into lessons.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Our creation,” Jetfire began, standing in front of the board. “Our creation goes as far back as before even Ymir, the first being. As the verse in the lore goes-” and he began writing on the board, saying it aloud as he did so:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Of old was the age<br/>When Ymir lived,<br/>Sea nor cool waves, <br/>Nor sand there were.<br/>Earth had not yet been,<br/>Nor heaven above,<br/>But a yawning Gap,<br/>And grass nowhere”.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Now,” He continued after a pause, “Don’t worry about copying anything that I write, or say. I’ll distribute them in notes after. The Gap that is mentioned here is known as Ginnungagap - it’s the filling between realms, the foundations of nothing that became something”.</span>
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  <span>     Orion felt a pang in his spark. Ginnungagap. Yawning-Void. Said to be dark and swirling with heavy black mist that was constricting, and things were said to live there. The filling between planes.</span>
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  <span>     He furrowed his brow and stared down at his hands as if they were suddenly the greatest thing since the invention of sliced bread. Weirdness - a weird feeling bubbled in his tanks.</span>
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</p><p>
  <span>     “Now, there wasn’t just Ginnungagap - there was Muspell too, and Niflheim. The realm of fire and the realm of frost. They came together and in the sputtering chaos that resulted, eleven rivers emerged - and they say that those very Rivers lurk below Cybertron’s surface as we speak”.<br/>    He paused.<br/>    “Now, these Eleven Rivers wove together and created the first beings - Ymir first, and under his request, the other Elder Gods. And from Ymir’s body, sweat dripped, and they formed ice giants. Ymir was beloved among his comrades, known for his kindness and gentle nature. He was so kind in fact, that he felt bad for everybody for existing in a void with heat on one side and frost on the other. So, he called a meeting between himself and his companions”.<br/>    Jetfire paused.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “And he had said to them, ‘I wish for us to have a home. A place to live’. Primus asked him how he intends to create said home, and humble Ymir responded with, ‘Use my body. Take my life and use my body to create a world’.<br/>    And so, they did. From his body came the earth, from his hair came the plants, from his skull came the sky, from his blood came the seas, from his brains came the clouds, and from his bones came the mountains. And from his body, seven new worlds were created. Asgard and Vanaheimr, the homes of the gods. This is where the Elder Gods dwelled”. Another pause.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “After followed Alfheimr, where the elves lived. Then came Jotunheimr, where the frost giants lived. After that, was Midgard - the very place we stand. The realm of the mortals. And then, Nidavellir where maggots wormed through Ymir’s flesh, and were turned into dwarves. Then came Muspell, the home of the fire giants and endless seas of flame. Below that came Niflheimr, the realm of mist and finally - Hel, the realm of the dead, which is often attested to be connected to Niflheimr due to their similar misty-and-frosty properties”.</span>
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  <span>     Jetfire was pacing between the desks, setting stapled bundles of paper in front of the students. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Now that the gods had realms for everybody to live in, they had their fair share of fun terraforming Midgard to what we have now. The only thing that was unused from Ymir’s body was his heart, which had long since calcified into a seed. A grand planet was built up around the seed - packed tightly with the freshest soil, watered with the freshest of Ymir’s blood. But the planet was still very empty”.<br/></span>
  <span>     Jetfire returned to the front of the room and sat at his desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “So, Primus proposed that he and his companions go to the newborn planet, which had sprung up with life and was home to a sapling born from Ymir’s heart now, and create beings to live on the planet. Primus gathered Ymir’s blood, and from the young tree gathered sap, and from the earth grabbed a large stone - combining them together to create the first Cybertronian, created in his image,” Jetfire finally concluded. “Born from the blood of Ymir, the flesh of Ymir, and the sap of what we now know as the Great Tree. And after this, Primus created access points to the other eight realms and placed them in the boughs and roots of the Great Tree. And that is how our world came to be”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Orion shifted in his seat uneasily. There was something about this story - what it was telling. Something that had been part of their people for thousands of years. But the story wasn’t finished, and Orion had a hunch that the Lore didn’t complete it.<br/>    He sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>     So the rest of the day slugged on. He just wanted to go home.<br/>    And think about his weird dreams.<br/>    Dreams often held meanings to them - symbolic meanings, and in some cases literal meanings. But his. <br/>    He hoped that others weren’t plagued with dreams like he was. The child was only six years old, after all. Adults probably dreamed about weirder things, like their love lives or something.<br/>    And his thoughts crowded his head even when he returned home. Magnus was at Cube practice, so it was just Orion home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Sunspot greeted him on the porch, sitting on a swinging bench and watching the world drift on by. Orion paced over to him and sat beside him. “Hey, OP!” He greeted playfully, ruffling the top of his head. Orion giggled.<br/>    “Hey, dad,” He responded softly. “What do we have in mind for dinner?”<br/>    “I’ve decided that I’m going to order out,” he began, “On Soluxus I’m taking you and Magnus to the amusement park, I’ve booked a hotel so we don’t have to drive back and forth, even though it’s only a thirty-minute drive-slash-fly or so”.<br/>    Orion’s optics sparkled. “Really?”<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Yeah! School’s just starting, you’re both going to be one year older on Alphus. One year more that I’ve lived with you two, my blessings from the Primes”. Sunspot threw his arm around Orion’s neck and ruffled his head again, leaving a kiss on his forehead. Orion giggled.</span>
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  <span>     A pause.</span>
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  <span>     “I assume Magnus is at Cube practice?”</span>
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  <span>     “Yeah,” Orion continued, “And keeps wanting to pressure me into joining”.</span>
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  <span>     Sunspot snorted. “Well, that’s not very kind of him. You do whatever you want. What Magnus wants is what Magnus wants. You are allowed to make your own choices. Now - what do you want to order?”</span>
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</p><p>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>yes i spent three goddamn pages describing iacon city.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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